


I Don't Want to Live on the Moon

by Awesomeist0



Category: Professional Wrestling, World Wrestling Entertainment
Genre: Angst, M/M, Sami needs a hug, WWE backstage politics, beginning of the end of a relationship
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-06-05
Updated: 2019-06-05
Packaged: 2020-04-08 10:23:16
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,040
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19105189
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Awesomeist0/pseuds/Awesomeist0
Summary: Finn's performing at the Greatest Royal Rumble.  He thinks Sami understands why he's doing this.Sami doesn't.





	I Don't Want to Live on the Moon

**Author's Note:**

> Just a short story, written in about an hour or so. This is not written to condemn anyone. But I really feel for the way Sami's being treated. 
> 
> Possible trigger warning for internalized homophobia and racism. This is kinda a political story, I guess, so read at your own risk.

_“You understand why I’m doing this, don’t you?”_

 

He’d said that he did.  Wanted to believe it so badly, wanted that more than anything else in the universe.  The glaring faults in his lover’s logic flashed at him like neon signs, almost blinding him in their intensity.  It _was_ all for them.  Going to Saudi Arabia.  Retaining his title; looking so strong and making a nearly absurd amount of money in the process.  It should have been easy to overlook.

 

But it wasn’t.

 

It hurt his heart so badly.  Just looking at Finn, even now as they slept side by side in their unfamiliar hotel bed.  Well, Finn slept; he’d been awake for the better part of these early morning hours fighting against the tears that threatened to choke him.  Did choke him at times, sobs slipping past his chapped lips to crash against his lover’s resting skin like an abrasive touch. He’d never. Never.  Felt so betrayed. Vince McMahon was one thing. As much as he tried to pretend otherwise, that he was more than a boss, he was family and each of his talent were his sometimes wayward children.  Vince was a businessman through and through, and if there was a chance at making a dollar he would chase it to the ends of the world. Memories of the look in Vince’s eyes when he called him into the conference room at the arena scratched at the back of his brain, making him shiver even though his body felt feverish.  The overlay of simpering concern that could not hide the absolute blankness in his eyes when he told him of the demands of their foreign hosts. There were some talent that would not be allowed to come with them to Jeddah. The women, of course. Aleister Black, due to the concerns of the religious imagery tattooed into his flesh.

 

And himself.

 

At first, the news was more of a relief than anything.  He would have much of that week off; since he’d been _expressly forbidden_ to enter the country, he would be receiving full pay as if he’d worked the event.  But the more he thought about it, the angrier he became. If it had been anyone else.  If another member of the roster had been forbidden to work an event due to their ethnicity, there would have been backlash that shook the company to the core.  But since it was him...nobody cared.

 

Not nobody.  John Cena and Daniel Bryan had come out publicly against the event, and Kevin refused to go at least partly in solidarity.  But for every denouncement, there were at least two or three high profile others who came out in grudging support.

 

_“I was going to sit it out.  But I thought about it, and nothing can change if I sit on the sidelines and do nothing.”_

 

It sounded like the right, politically correct thing to say.  And it made him feel so very isolated. An island surrounded by the sweeping sea of indifference, battered and eroded by hatred.  Because _he_ was still acceptable to hate.  He and the others that prayed like him.  Believed like him. Loved like him.

 

The tears flowed faster now, cutting down his cheeks and soaking through the neck of his t-shirt.  Not even twelve hours prior, the WWE had named Finn Balor one of their 3 allies to the LGBTQIA community during pride month.  Which wasn’t surprising, considering all the work his lover put into helping others. He loved Finn so much for it; loved him more than he ever thought possible.  Loved to see him at events

 

_//at a safe distance, of course//_

 

interacting with his fans.  Loved to see the look of absolute wonder on his face when someone would spin a tale of coming out partially due to Finn’s guidance, and the two would share tears and gentle words of encouragement as they spoke of a new life that they lived; one in which they could exist authentically.  Finn had done so much good. Only to have it all cut away by participating in one event. Implicitly supporting one cause that went against everything he so publicly stood for.

 

He drew a shaking breath, feeling his heart shatter more with each sleepy breath that Finn took.  Tomorrow morning, they would separate. Finn would go off to Jeddah while he...he would return home to Montreal.  Spend the next few days surrounded by the people and places he so loved while pretending that he wasn’t hurting. Pretending that nothing was wrong; he was fine and always would be and it _didn’t matter_ that through his actions, his lover was enforcing the idea that Sami was allowed to be the other.  And it didn’t matter what he did. How many hours they’d cuddle, clinging tightly to each other and filling the nonexistent space between them with grand plans for what their lives outside of wrestling would be like.  How sweet Finn’s touch was; how Sami could swear he could feel each of the individual whorls of his lover’s fingertips against his bare skin and how it all felt so overwhelmingly good he’d cry. None of it felt real anymore.  And it scared him.

 

“Darlin’?” Finn’s eyes cracked open just a bit, the sleepy pale blue irises almost luminous in the moonlight?  “You alright?”

 

He wasn’t.  Oh, how he wasn’t.  But he forced himself to nod, sucking all the consuming pain back into a little box within himself to haunt him later.  “Can’t sleep.” His words were barely more than breath that fought for dominance against his tears, and if Finn had been just slightly more awake, he would have heard it.

 

The fact that he _didn’t_ hear it splintered Sami’s heart just a bit more.

 

“Come ‘ere.”  Finn opened his arms, and he fell into them without question.  Fingertips brushed so lightly against his pale biceps, clearly supposed to be a soothing act of comfort.  But it hurt. Turned his skin to pins and needles, this gentle touch they’d shared so many times before but now he didn’t even want.  Uttering a sleepy little platitude Sami felt more than he heard, Finn drifted back to sleep.

 

And he was alone in the darkness once more.   


End file.
